I got bored today.
I apologise.
Actually, I don’t :o)
Finger Pog models this seasons hat...
Finger Pog visits the O2
Finger Pog meets Norman while wearing a toupee
Devil Finger Pog
Angelic Finger Pog
My judgement has been appalling today. When I discovered at 4.30am that I had no hot water I should have gone back to bed rather than having an ice cold shower that I squeaked all the way though.
When the train in front of mine broke down I should have turned round and gone home rather than doing what ended up being a 2 hour 45 minute commute.
What made me listen to myself when I suggested a bit of a swim before aqua aerobics I don’t know. Well, I do actually. It’s because the fatness has reached my toes. They have been exploding from my socks. Look:
Escaping tubby toes!
So, after 60 lengths I started the aqua aerobics class. And within 10 minutes was wondering if I could escape without anyone noticing…it’s blimin’ hard work! But then the woggles came out (called noodles these days). And I got one! And I got a ‘floatation belt’. And a pair of foam dumbbells. It turns out that a girl can have too much buoyancy. My noodle in particular refused to behave and I felt more like I was wrestling a family of crocodiles than doing an exercise class.
Anyway, it turns out that my inability to complete an exercise class without having a giggling fit might be less of a pole issue and more of a Pog issue. I enjoyed it though. And I am not cut or bruised. And I am already aching so it must have worked my muscles. I just hope that includes my tubby toes…:o)
Pole dancing is not for me. I am not the delicate, light-as-a-feather, bendy sort of person that you need to be. I am more of a heffalump in shorts. This makes it very hard to pop myself upside down on the pole and let go with everything except a left little toe. It is a good giggle, but mostly for the rest of the class. And while I like making people smile, I don’t particularly like paying £40 a month for the privilege (although to be fair I have acquired a huge range of bruises and cuts as well for that money).
So instead of dancing of the pole tomorrow night I will be aerobicing of the water (or doing aqua aerobics if you want the more widely recognised term). I am hoping that I will incur fewer injuries by being surrounded by water and that by doing a few lengths before hand it will help in the progress of the un-fatness plan more than standing next to a pole saying ‘well I can’t do that’.
I do have a concern though. I tried this aqua aerobic thingy once before, years ago. Woggles were handed out to lie back and balance on while legs were waved around (a woggle being similar to a 4 foot long foam pipe cleaner). The woggles ran out when they got to me so I was handed armbands to go around my wrists. While the rest of the class laid back on their woggles in a relatively relaxed manner, I lay back and everything sunk apart from my hands which were disproportionately buoyant…
On the upside, on the basis that I’ve had my aqua aerobics disaster, I am sure that tomorrow will be a huge success. Won’t it….?
:o)
Just a random happy sort of a photo...
It’s been a busy old week with a lot of randomness so you might find something useful for your coming week amongst the below:
:o)
I may join Charlie in a spot of hibernation next week...
There is wax everywhere. Down the side of the oven, welded to the floor, liberally coating the back of an armchair… The mess can only really equate to one thing. Yes, there has been creativeness occurring at Pog Towers.
It all started with the Pog Mum waving an article at me saying’ I thought you might like to try this’ followed by a dose of charity shop scavenging, a
sprinkling of internet shopping and the arrival of a box of wax. Quite a big box of wax. Big in comparison to Pog Towers – the smallest house in the world which also contains minimal cupboards. Nestled with the wax, wicks, dye and scent were the instructions which, much to my amazement I read before embarking on my afternoon of creativity. Which is a good thing as I needed 2 saucepans and I only own one. 
Finally ready, I started working out quantities. The 
instructions were incredibly easy to follow. Unfortunately my ability to ‘do numbers’ is appalling and the result was quite a lot of chaos, a couple of terrified cats (who still smell of vanilla) and a discovery that melted wax gets you a lovely shine on your hob. This was the other result:
Ta da!
I’m rather pleased with it :o)
Ta da! Ta da!
Hooray me!
A year ago today I had my last cigarette. Having smoked a silly amount (over 40 a day) for a silly number of years (I don’t actually want to admit how many) and having developed annual pneumonia, a terribly attractive hacking cough and a wheeze that could be heard in the next village when the wind was blowing the right way, it felt like a good idea. (As you can probably tell, it wasn’t really an option!)
A little Pog party!
I wont go on as there is nothing worse than an ex smoker bleating about the evils of smoking, but if you are considering giving up, I’ll leave you with one thought. Every week for the last year I have given my dad the money I would have spent on cigarettes. It paid for a 2 week holiday on the most gorgeous Greek island (plus spending money) last year and I have already saved enough for this years holiday!
So last year was the-year-of-giving-up-smoking. This year is the-year-of-losing-the-weight-put-on-by-replacing-cigarettes-with-cookies.
Just for today though, feel free to have a cookie or a bar of chocolate or something containing fatness to celebrate with me. The un-fatness plan can continue tomorrow :o)
I just wrote another e-mail. It is similar to the e-mail to Boots that resulted in me making vast quantities of jam. I’m not sure this will have quite the same end result but we’ll see. Bloody sports bras.
So here it is, for your amusement:
Dear lovely bra customer services person,
I’ll briefly set the scene for you:
- I bought a ‘Shock Absorber Run’ bra yesterday in a size I won’t mention. Let’s just say that more than one letter is involved and it is big enough for small people to use as a tent.
- I am not a contortionist.
- I live on my own.
- I went to the gym this morning in my lovely new bra / tent.
What I would like to ask is this: Did a man devise the ‘Shock Absorber Run’ bra?
I ask because it does all the things it said it should (including – although I can’t be as exact as you on the figure – reducing ‘up to 78% bounce’ – how was that measured?!) ONCE YOU HAVE MANAGED TO GET IT ON!
As I mentioned, I am not a contortionist and I live on my own. This combination is not good for owners of ‘Shock Absorber Run’ bras unless you have a spare 20 minutes to get the thing on. I am a fasten-at-the-front-swizzle-to-the-back-and-arms-in kind of a bra wearer. Do that with this bra though and you are only part way there. You still have an additional clippy thing in the middle of your back placed exactly where your arms don’t bend to unless you dislocate a shoulder or two.
I didn't include this in my e-mail but this is a screen shot so you can see the problem for yourself...
Could you possibly consider this the next time that a bra is designed? Or request any men present at the design phase to have a go at trying it on while they are rushing to get ready for the gym? If you also have instructions on how to best get into the bra that would be much appreciated. Although I am sure over time I will get a little more stretchy / capable of dislocating my shoulders on demand.
As I said though, all in all, the bra is great and I am very impressed with it.
Thank you very much for your time.
:o)
Again, I’ll let you know if I get response :o)
Well, that was rather chaotic for a Friday morning.
I got up to make a series of discoveries.
Having cleared all the mushrooms and blackbirds present, I stuck a tea towel around the leaky thingy and rushed off up to the pool (well, the un-fatness plan stops for no leaks and it was way too early to be calling a fixer-man).
I have to say, the threat of flood to your entire house (being the smallest house ever built it wouldn’t take much. Especially as it is a bungalow), yes, the threat of flood certainly speeds up the swimming nicely.
Happily, no flood had taken place by the time I got home. The fixer-man knows me well and having been informed that water was leaking from the thingy on the tank whatsit, he came straight over and did his fixing thing.
The final chapter in my Friday morning was when Charlie regurgitated the feathers he’d eaten rather than used for decorating purposes. All over the carpet. And who says I don’t lead an exciting life? :o)
A fur ball in disgrace...
… happy things like this happened everyday?
Instead of getting the usual Error404 page when searching the Internet:
To get something a little more unusual. Like this:
And spotted by @simonk01 in December on the Central line:
(To be fair, it would have been hard to miss!) How lovely to brighten up peoples day like this :o)
Keep your eyes and ears open though. A few months back on the tube I think I must have been the only one that heard (I was certainly the only one that laughed) when the tube driver announced that he was sorry for the delay, but he’d got stuck on 9 down and had needed some thinking time…:o)
The second week in January is not particularly noteworthy. If anything it seems to be dragging more than last week (I actually thought it was Friday night when I went to bed last night. Yes, that was Monday night).
I had a lovely smile though when this was pushed through my letterbox:
The sender is one of the most loveable little people I know. What is more, when I went to his house to thank him, his mummy told me that not only the card, but the words were completely unprompted. And it is the first time he has written ‘I love you’. I have warned his mummy to keep an eye on him. Sadly for me he is only 4 (nearly 5!) but I have a feeling he will be reeling in the ladies from here on in!
I remember my first love letter. It was from Simon Henderson and we were 5. He said ‘I love you’ too and that we’d get married when we were grown up. I can still remember the Snoopy paper he used and the jealousy of the other girls in the class (because Simon was rather a catch. Mainly because he was one of only 3 boys to 20 or so girls and the only one who didn’t play with boring old Action Man all the time…). He left our school the next year and we lost touch though so it turned out to be a slightly empty proposal.
I wonder if everyone remembers their first love letter. And I wonder if in thirty years or so, Loveable Little Person will remember writing to me :o)
PS: I would like to take this opportunity to assure Lovely Little Man that Loveable Little Person does not take his place. The good thing about little people is that there is room for a lot of them :o)
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